Her Name is Dominique
by Rasiaa
Summary: And after she graduates from Hogwarts, she wants to quit the whole "Magic" thing and be a muggle fashion designer. It confounds her family, and she likes it that way.


_For the FRIENDS Comp_

* * *

She has white and pink hair cut in a pixie, a conch piercing, an industrial bar in each ear, and a secret tattoo on her right ankle. She loves jewelry and short shorts, the color white, and sparkles. Her favorite thing is muggle television and she likes to draw and design concept art. She browses the internet on a muggle phone she pays for herself and uses pinterest when she can't sleep.

And after she graduates from Hogwarts, she wants to quit the whole "Magic" thing and be a muggle fashion designer. It confounds her family, and she likes it that way.

Her name is Dominique.

…

She waves her wand absently, drawing patterns in the air. She suspends the drawing with the magic of runes she learned in arithmancy, and that Teddy, a curse-breaker, taught her. She looks at the drawing for a long time after she's finished, the sparkling fire-like lines lighting up the darkness of her dorm room.

Chloe wanders in, and glances at Dom inquisitively. "Up for exploding snap and firewhiskey?" she asks, opening her trunk. Dom looks her over appreciatively, as she always does, because damn, this girl pulls off the tacky school uniform like no one else does. Chloe pulls a skirt and crop top out of the trunk and glances over again. "See something you like?" she grins, and Dom hums.

"You know it, babe. And yeah, I'll join you."

"Awesome," Chloe says. "We'll meet you in the room of requirement." She disappears behind her bed curtain to change, and Dom groans.

"What have I done to be deprived of your beauty?" she demands jokingly, and Chloe laughs.

"Nothing," she says, pulling the curtain back again. "I'll see you in ten? Get changed, for Merlin's sake," Chloe throws over her shoulder, shutting the dorm room door behind her.

Dom glances down at her uniform and shudders. "Yeah really," she mutters.

…

James pokes her again.

Dom barely resists snapping the kid's wand.

"Come on, Dom. We're partners in this. Let's get to work," he pleads, and she snaps her head up.

"Since when do you want to work?" she asks suspiciously, and James grimaces.

"Since Mum and Dad threatened to have me do every chore in the house until I move out," he says. "I have to get at least three Es on my exams this year or I'm screwed."

She snorts. "Serves you right," she mutters, returning to her drawing. The dress looks too plain. She considers, and then sketches a belt, with really long ties that hit the knee. James makes a noise of irritation and grabs her pencil. She lets out a quiet screech at the dark line across the paper. "You ass," she seethes.

"Serves you right," he repeats back at her. "Now come on. I want one of those Es in history."

"Why?" she scowls, closing her sketchbook and setting it aside. "It's so boring."

James gasps dramatically, clutching his shirt. "What is wrong with you?" he asks, leaning forward. "History makes the world make sense!"

"Then you do the project yourself," she says, "And get an O."

James pauses, and she takes the opportunity to stand. "I guess," he says quietly, looking at the books on the desk.

Dom moves to leave, throwing her bag over her shoulder. Then she stops, and turns around. "Say, if you love history so much, why don't you become a historian?" she suggests. James snorts.

"I think my parents would die of shock. But, yeah, maybe. That's not a bad idea," he agrees, and she grins at him.

"Don't say I never did anything for you."

James throws his quill at her, and she ducks out of the library, laughing. She'll scour for helpful books later, when the ideas aren't running rampant in her head, and she will take them to the Gryffindor common room.

…

"I just don't see why my parents can't see what-"

"I get it," she says. "I really do. My parents don't get it either."

Kim deflates. "I want to get along with them. I really do. Since we're graduating, and they said they want to move to Germany, for whatever reason, and I don't want to go, so I'm just like, what the hell are you guys thinking? And they said I can stay or go since I'm an adult now."

"That really sucks, darling, I'm sorry," Dom mutters, and then she points. "How about chocolate and then we break into the Shrieking Shack again?" she suggests. Kim smiles, a little teary eyed, a little cheered.

"You know me so well," she laughs, and Dom smiles back, teasing.

"Of course. We've been friends for six years," she agrees, and hooks their arms together.

…

"You're graduating in a month," Professor Longbottom says. He flips through her file, looking at her marks and her achievements, not that they're fantastic or anything. "Do you have any idea what you're going to do?"

"Vanish," she says mysteriously, waving her ring-clad fingers at him. "I plan on designing muggle fashion."

Neville stares at her blankly for a minute, then he sighs, and leans forward. "Are you sure? You wouldn't want to pursue a career in a magical area?" he checks. "Because it takes connections to get into muggle fashion-"

She sighs. "What do you think I do in my free time, professor?" she asks, staring at him.

"Draw and not pay attention in class," he says sternly. She laughs.

"I get good marks, anyway," she waves that off, still giggling. "I mean- I have connections, professor, so don't worry about me."

She stands and leaves.

…

Her graduation is nothing special, and her little brother and older sister coo over her- mocking and proud, respectively. She coos back at Louis, her Irish twin, and fellow graduate. "Shut up," he scoffs. She expects nothing less.

But what surprises her is the bracelets her mother hands her as a gift. They're in a red box, with a distinctive red ribbon tied around, and she would recognize the American jewelry company anywhere. "We wanted you to have something you would enjoy," her mother explains, as she unties the ribbon and opens the box.

White pearls gleam up at her. Three bracelets, a set of earrings, and a three-string necklace are beyond her wildest dreams. She gently closes the box and pulls her parents into a hug. She never thought her parents understood her that well, but she supposes she might have been mistaken.

James approaches her. "I told my parents about the historian idea, and I was right."

"I'm sorry," Dom says, turning. "When's the funeral?" she asks, slipping on the new pearls.

He hits her. "Shut up," he says, and she snickers, hooking the clasp around her neck.

"So," she says, her voice an excited whisper. "This is it," and she gestures around. "We graduated."

"Don't remind me," he begs. "It's bad. I don't like it."

She snorts. "Why not? We're free."

"And responsible," he finishes for her, and shudders. Then he grins. "But at least I got four Es and two Os this year," he shares, brightening.

She wraps her arm around her cousin's shoulder and ruffles his hair. "Knew you could do it."


End file.
